


Now I’m Out Here Feeling Like A Ten, Best I Ever Been

by Poppedthep



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Secret Santa, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poppedthep/pseuds/Poppedthep
Summary: Brooke’s first night out with her new pussy.This is Writ's Secret Santa present. Honestly, that is its whole function. But anyone else is welcome to read it too!
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53





	Now I’m Out Here Feeling Like A Ten, Best I Ever Been

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writworm42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writworm42/gifts).



> So this is entirely just a bunch of things I think Writ might enjoy for their Secret Santa. But it also went a little left and the characters took over and became as-written-by-Pop versions, ahaha. It is out of my usual B/V soft boys comfort zone, so hope I managed to make something you enjoy!
> 
> I did some research for this but if there is anything I have wrong please let me know and I will fix immediately!
> 
> These characters are all fictional.

It’s Brooke’s first night out with her new pussy. 

After months of rest, healing, diligently dilating, dedicatedly moisturizing the scars with cocoa butter, she’s feeling gorgeous, finally ready to take her wonderful complete body out for a spin. 

She blissfully inhaled her first post-op cigarette three months ago. Two months ago she got back in the studio for her first post-op dance session, then absolutely melted into her first post-op bath after pushing herself too hard, trying to catch up all at once. 

She celebrated low-key as soon as she was healed enough for company. She had her best friends Steve and Courtney over for a little dinner party. Courtney baked vagina cupcakes, and Steve got so drunk he tried on the cute new underwear she bought herself, strutting around and posing for pictures in her heels. It was a fun celebration with her closest people. 

Tonight, excitement in the pit of her stomach, she feels like going out and celebrating with herself. Having the night at a bar she’s been dreaming of.

She’s not a big clubbing person but Brooke likes a drink at a bar. She loves to meet people, and to flirt. 

As much as it thrills her, she never used to let things go further than flirting. Sometimes a little kissing. Firstly because stranger germs, but also because having the kind of conversations she would have had to have had if her pants came off, and the anxiety that would have accompanied them, would have totally killed the mood for her.

But that’s not standing in her way anymore. 

Her body feels electric with excitement as she leans against the bar, having squeezed between people to order. It’s packed. It’s Pride weekend. She has plans to go out with Courtney tomorrow but tonight she wants to go out and be gay and meet women by herself. 

The bartender notices her quickly, because people do. 

She has to repeat her drink order twice because her voice is too soft for the loud room. 

When she holds out her card to pay, the bartender smiles at her, eyes dancing with intrigue. 

“It’s taken care of, gorgeous.” 

At first she thinks she’s coming on to her. She gives her a once over, a flick of her eyes up and down her pale blue button up, over her lip piercing. 

The woman squirms under the force of her appraisal, fumbles with the beer tap and gets ten times shyer, as most women do when she looks at them like that.

There’s potential but she’s not sweeping Brooke off her feet and it would be hard to flirt while she’s working. There are better options for her tonight. 

Then the bartender grins and shakes her head, jerking it over to the other side of the bar. 

“Somebody likes you, beautiful.”

A gorgeous Latina in a basketball jersey with a sharp honey blonde bob is leaning back on her elbows on the bar, surrounded by a group of loud friends. She’s holding court, shouting something out to them, and at the same time looking over her shoulder down the bar at Brooke. 

She winks at her. 

She’s a lot more promising.

///

Brooke has to squeeze around a very large woman enthusiastically body rolling shouting, 

“Y’all hos see this?! This the good milk, honey,” to get near to her enigmatic drink benefactor. 

The woman in question is energetically slapping the large woman’s stomach, shouting, 

“Yas!” 

For a moment Brooke considers just squeezing back out of the group and leaving them to their yelling. 

Then the Latina’s sparkling eyes turn on Brooke and Brooke stays put. 

“Thank you for the drink,” she smiles, trying to be loud enough to belong in the conversation. 

She holds eye contact and purses her lips around the straw, sucking as seductively as she can, which is pretty damn seductively. The little Latina's eyes heat up.

“You wanna thank me right, baby, you betta start shakin' that fine ass and come dance with me,” she grins, raising her eyebrows lecherously. 

Brooke sputters laughter involuntarily. 

She tries to regain her composure, reign in her goofy smile, look her over with the consideration that makes people squirm, makes her feel powerful and safe and in control.

It doesn’t work with this woman. 

She looks Brooke up and down right back, teeth bared as she grins, and winks again. 

Brooke feels a little flushed.

“Damn, Vanj, give the ho a minute to take a sip,” the large woman bellows, throwing an arm around Brooke as though they’re friends. 

“Hey! She ain’t no ho,” warm brown eyes trail over Brooke. “She real classy, I can tell.”

///

She finds out the gorgeous woman's name is Vanessa, though her friends keep calling her some odd nickname.

They chat while Brooke drinks her drink, when Brooke can get a word in between Vanessa's fascinating run-on sentences and the yelled interruptions and catcalls from her friends. Brooke isn't _shy_ , she's just very Canadian, takes a minute to assess people before she decides if she wants to warm up to them.

Vanessa is bright and funny and Brooke has to keep remembering to cover her nose when she accidentally snort laughs. She’s not looking as cool as she usually tries to, but she’s having a great time.

She realizes she's already started warming up to Vanessa without consciously deciding to. Telling her little things about herself, true things she usually only shares with friends, putting her hand on top of Vanessa's on the bar, their little fingers brushing. 

She has to lean very close to Vanessa to be heard over the music, but that’s okay because it means she gets to lean very close to Vanessa. 

Vanessa smells amazing. There’s an overwhelming amount of perfume, but beneath that there’s a heady richer smell coming from her hair or the beads of sweat along her neck or something and it’s making Brooke want to lean even closer. 

Brooke puts a hand on Vanessa's waist, tracing the tempting curve, daring herself, feeling the thrill of being able to touch and not having to worry that she might touch back - where she might put her hands, what she might feel.

Even when her body felt alien to her, Brooke was a natural at seduction. Now feeling so right, it comes even easier. 

She strokes a thumb over Vanessa’s hip as Vanessa tells her about her “dumbass brothers” and Vanessa starts blinking very heavily, eyes catching on Brooke’s lips. 

Perfect. 

“How about that dance?” Brooke suggests, setting her empty glass on the bar.

Vanessa snaps out of her trance, brightening, and tugs Brooke to the dancefloor by her hips, walking backwards through the crowd. 

People part for her like they can tell she’s coming, when all she’s doing is looking intently at Brooke. Something about the energy radiating off her makes her impossible to ignore. 

She looks smug, pleased to be back in control of the seduction, with her little hands firm on Brooke’s hips. 

Brooke enjoys the thrill of how it feels to reduce someone to stuttering but she loves being swept off her feet too. Not many people are able to do it.

They find a space on the floor between sweaty bodies. It's a poppy song, one Brooke can dance to without feeling too self-conscious.

When Vanessa spins Brooke and pulls her tight against her body, her hips are already rolling against Brooke’s. 

She dances like she’s fucking - forceful and unapologetic and with excellent rhythm. 

Brooke matches the roll of her hips like a good partner and lets her body sway with it, arms rising in the air with the lyrics. Vanessa’s hands chase them up her sides, stopping on her ribs. 

Brooke tilts her head back, wants to tell her to keep going, touch her a little higher up, touch her wherever she wants, because her body is perfect now and she loves it. She wants everyone to know how beautiful she is under her clothes.

Vanessa’s hands stroke down her stomach instead, over her clinging dress, so she clenches her abs, hoping they feel impressive.

Then the song changes to something more hip hop and Vanessa's grip settles back on her hips, immediately adjusting to the beat like a language she speaks. Brooke turns around and drapes her arms over Vanessa’s shoulders.

Vanessa is shorter than Brooke by a lot, even in her ankle boots, but she acts like she hasn’t even noticed. When Brooke circles her hips she smacks the side of her ass lightly, grinning confidently up at her, winking when Brooke catches her eye.

Brooke starts to feel hot, tries to distract herself by getting lost in the music and the movement of her body, but it's harder with this song. She gives it her best but is painfully aware of how awkward her white ass looks. 

Brooke is a great dancer. She's been dancing since she was a kid. For as long as she can remember. It used to be her favorite thing in the world. 

She went through a few years where she started to hate it because of how aware it made her of her body, and how wrong she felt when she felt connected to that body like that. 

She went through a few more years feeling graceless and awkward as she tried to adjust to dancing with a new type of body, on its way to becoming a body that felt like hers, still not really wanting people to look at her. 

They always have though. Even when Brooke hated herself, could hardly stand to look at herself, didn’t recognize the face in the mirror, other people found her beautiful and charismatic. She was in her old body and still is now in her chosen body. It was her defense mechanism back then, and now it's just habit.

In the past few years she’s reconnected with her love of dance, and gotten really fucking good at it. She’s dedicated and works hard. She loves working up a sweat, pushing past her limits. 

In the past few weeks of dancing post-op, she’s starting to love the very thing she used to hate - how she can feel her body move, feeling connected to it on a primal level, knowing this is all her.

She feels so right all the time now. She's still not over how light it is, like she could step outside in the morning and float away with relief and happiness.

But she does still feel awkward when it’s sexy dancing, like you do to hip hop with a pretty girl in a club.

Give her choreography and she’s fine. Put her somewhere you can make a lot of suggestive eye contact, Brooke is a champion flirt. 

But put her grinding up on someone to a beat and Brooke is becomes all limbs and disconnect again, the whitest Becky that ever tried to twerk. 

If Vanessa notices, she’s nice enough not to mention it. She does get kind of bossy, guiding Brooke’s hips firmly back around into the cradle of her thrusts, making sure she keeps pace with her, which Brooke allows because it’s probably helping.

It's also hot. 

She tries to shut out thoughts of whether or not she looks embarrassing and just concentrate on how good Vanessa’s body feels against hers. 

“You a good dancer baby,” Vanessa purrs in her ear. 

Well, good. That worked. Brooke feels a rushing joy.

She hums in response, murmurs, “So are you,” and lets herself get lost in the heady feeling, mind deliciously quieter than usual.

Vanessa bends low and her hand slips down Brooke’s thigh. She plays with the bow on Brooke’s stockings, stroking it between her fingers, running her fingertips along the hem, grazing Brooke’s skin.

"Awww she real cute, huh?” she purrs in Brooke’s ear.

Even her fingertips are warm. She’s like a little furnace behind Brooke.

Brooke beams into her own shoulder. 

She loves these stockings. They arrived in the mail this week and her legs look fucking amazing in them. Before coming out tonight she took about a hundred selfies of herself in just them and her pretty new lacy underwear, smoothing the satin over her flat crotch blissfully, so happy about rubbing herself like that she almost got distracted and stayed in.

“Baby, can I touch you?” Vanessa breathes warm in her ear, like she’s read her mind. 

Her fingertips are tickling the inside of Brooke's thigh, stroking up higher, and she sounds so excited Brooke immediately wants to say yes.

“You’re touching me now,” she says instead, soft and playful. 

She grins at Vanessa over her shoulder and Vanessa catches her chin and tugs her down to kiss her. Her lips are plush and soft but firm against Brooke’s. Her hand slides into Brooke’s hair, holding her in place. 

“Don’t play,” she murmurs gravelly against her mouth.

Her hand ghosts back up Brooke’s thigh, and she strokes her cheek, eyes wide and adoring.

“Baby, can I? You know you want it, look at your face. With a mouth that good I bet your pussy real cute.”

She dives at Brooke's lips for another kiss. Brooke kisses back automatically, her mind detached as her heart starts pounding out of habit.

Then a slow happy warmth starts to spreads through her as she remembers it's okay now. 

She tells her anxieties to fuck off. She has nothing to worry about anymore. 

Vanessa’s hand is patient, waiting for her agreement, but hovering close, warm against her thigh. She wants it. 

But she's also scared. This is all new for her. Anxiety starts tight in her chest. 

This is why she came out tonight, this is what she wants. She should just do it.

But she’s found it very hard to come in her valiant efforts to masturbate with her new set up. New pussies don’t come with instruction manuals and she's fumbled clumsily around, failing because she keeps letting her thoughts get too loud and distract her more than anything else, but failing every time so far. 

Not that an orgasm is the only goal of exploring her new pussy. Not that an orgasm is "winning" and anything else is a loss. And she'd keep her new pussy and the way it makes her feel a hundred times over even if she never comes again.

But Brooke has always been a high achiever and she doesn’t want to stop being perfect now. Especially if someone else is about to get involved. If Vanessa is going to start something, she wants to be able to finish it.

She wants to be perfect for Vanessa, even though she's only just met her. She never wants anyone to leave an encounter with her not thinking it was the sexiest most perfect experience they've ever had.

Her mind is racing. She tries to focus on Vanessa’s breath in her ear, the beat of her heart against her back. Vanessa starts kissing the side of Brooke’s throat and traces her fingertips lightly over Brooke through the satin and lace and Brooke's mind gets much quieter.

Vanessa pulls her hand back a little and Brooke unconsciously chases it with her hips. She feels a smirk against her neck and Vanessa's fingers brush over her again, more confidently.

She's so excited she forgets to be nervous.

This is it. A gorgeous woman is touching her and feeling pussy. Nothing else. Brooke giggles out loud a little, so happy she could float above the dancefloor and fly out into the night. 

Instead, she presses herself into Vanessa’s hand. 

She was right. Brooke's pussy _is_ real cute. And she can let Vanessa know it. This is hers now.

Her hand covers Vanessa’s, pressing her closer, and she rubs a little into Vanessa’s palm. 

“Yeah?” Vanessa breathes into her ear, breathless with excitement. 

“Mmhmm,” she smiles at her over her shoulder and takes her hand away, lifting an arm behind her to thread fingers into Vanessa’s hair as she cups Brooke, massaging her firmly. 

She turns over her shoulder for another kiss and as Vanessa’s tongue slides against hers, Brooke feels her fingers slip into her pretty underwear and slide against her clit.

She gasps into Vanessa’s mouth at a hand that isn’t hers there, the exciting new feeling of it, and Vanessa hums, “Yessssss baby, mmmhm, that's right,” warm, delighted encouragement as she starts firm circles against Brooke’s clit. 

The brush of her dry fingertips drags a little and Brooke feels her hand dip down, parting her lips, searching for wetness to slide against her better. 

She fumbles a little, and Brooke gets tense as she feels her confusion behind her. 

“You okay?” She murmurs in Brooke’s ear. 

“I’m great baby,” Brooke breathes, heart pounding in her throat. 

Should she say? She has to say something. She can feel Vanessa’s confused frown without looking at her. 

“But you ain’t…”

She turns to face her, twisting Vanessa’s wrist awkwardly, and raises an eyebrow. 

By the way Vanessa blinks at up her Brooke probably looks intimidating, but she’s stalling for time while her mind races behind her cool facade, trying to think what to do, to say.

Vanessa stutters uncertainly, “I thought you was likin….I mean your pussy ain’t…”

“That’s because it used to be a dick,” Brooke says, deadpan. 

Fuck it. It’s the truth. Fuck anyone who doesn’t want to hear it. 

Vanessa is gorgeous and Brooke wants her hands all over her, but if Vanessa is gonna be put off by that then she doesn’t deserve to put her fingers in Brooke’s gorgeous new pussy anyway. 

It’s taken Brooke a long time to get to that level of confidence, but she’s there now, and that’s all that matters. 

Vanessa blinks quickly, clearly surprised. 

But she doesn’t necessarily look discouraged.

Brooke tugs on Vanessa’s hand, because until Vanessa gives her a reason not to, she _is_ still trying to seduce her. 

She pulls Vanessa's hand to her mouth and looks her dead in the eye as she slowly sucks on her fingers. 

Vanessa’s eyes widen, lashes fluttering heavy against her pretty cheeks, mesmerized by Brooke. 

“Okay, werq,” she breathes, hushed with awe. 

Brooke smiles slowly, a delighted little giggle bubbling up when she takes Vanessa’s fingers out of her mouth. She brings Vanessa's hand back where it was, now dripping with her spit. 

When she turns and presses back against her, Vanessa grips her hip tightly with her other hand.

“I needa do anything different or….?” Vanessa murmurs in her ear, awestruck, warm, encouraging. 

“No baby. You were doing good,” Brooke smirks, and that’s all Vannessa needs. She blinks the daze off, snapping back to herself, pulling Brooke close by the hip, putting her where she wants her and rolling their hips to the beat, starting firm purposeful circles on her clit, powerful little fingers sliding deliciously against her with the spit.

Brooke almost says _I don’t really know what I’m doing with it yet either._

Or _we can figure it out together, if you like. What are you doing the rest of the weekend? I’d love to spend an evening listening to you talk and watching you eat pasta._

Or _pussies are complicated, huh? Is yours too? You think it’s worse with brand new ones you weren’t born with or are they all a fucking mystery to us?_

But then the pace and pressure of Vanessa’s fingers is so good that her rushing thoughts get very quiet, everything in her focussing on the building tension in her gut, Vanessa’s hips still nudging rhythmically at hers, Vanessa purring in her ear, a disjointed tumble of, “Yessss. Hmmm. Yessss baby, like that, that's right,” building in pitch and volume, making people around them look and Brooke blush, and Vanessa doesn't even seem to notice she's doing it.

It’s the quietest Brooke's mind has been since she’s started experimenting with her new pussy. The most turned on she’s ever been. All she can think about is Vanessa, being surrounded by her, at the mercy of her insistent fingers. 

Her hips are still vigorously circling behind her, guiding her. She noses along her neck, leaving sucking kisses. The hand that isn’t aggressively rubbing her slides down Brooke’s thigh, blunt nails running up her stockings. Her thumb grazes along the seam again, brushing the skin under it. 

The hand on her clit hesitates, drifting down cautiously, stroking curiously over her lower lips, against the hole she's been painstakingly dilating for moments just like this. It's dry other than her sweat from dancing, but it's nice to have Vanessa touch there. Everything about this is nice.

“Shall I...I mean can you…?” She hears Vanessa get frustrated with herself and feels her forehead thunk against Brooke’s shoulder. 

“Shit, I dunno how the fuck to say it," she murmurs into the back of Brooke's neck. "You want me inside you baby? Can you do that?”

Brooke raises an eyebrow at her over her shoulder. She should probably be trying to look more serious but at the adorable wide eyed overwhelm on Vanessa’s face she can’t help breathing a laugh. Vanessa shakes her head at herself. 

“Sorry if that ain’t...I don’t know the right words, you know, all the terminonimy?"

"Terminonimy?" Brooke asks delightedly, fighting a smile.

"Right, terminonimy...you know...the way to say shit right and respectful..." Vanessa frowns, her eyes searching. They flash decisively as she reaches, "terminology," half triumphant, half embarrassed. Brooke tries not to smirk in a judgemental way but she can't help the fond smile she's giving Vanessa. She's never met anyone like her.

"Shit," Vanessa is shaking her head, chagrined. "I’m tryna figure out the cute shit to say and I can’t even remember how to talk right when you lookin' at me like that,” her eyes blaze at Brooke.

Brooke giggles. It’s amazing how much more relaxed she feels around Vanessa than she usually does during sexual encounters. Even with herself. 

She has a warmth and charm that puts Brooke at ease. 

“Keep touching my clit,” Brooke says softly. “Please,” she adds, feeling awkward. “I mean if you want to," she adds, softer, Canadian politeness kicking in in horror at her presumption. "That was…” Brooke feels herself blush a little, because as well as she can flirt and be suggestive, when she gets to talking in detail, she has the vocabulary of the polite Christian girl her mother raised. “That was really nice,” she finishes softly. 

Vanessa draws her close and kisses her long and slow and tender. Brooke melts into it, feeling treasured, precious.

“All right baby. You don’t gotta tell me twice,” Vanessa hums, grinning like they're in on a secret together. 

Her eyes are bright as she looks at Brooke and very exaggeratedly sucks on her fingers, smirking around them with pride, a fast learner. 

Then she tugs Brooke's hips around, and back against her. Slides her hand back where Brooke wants it, quickly finding the pace that had Brooke panting again.

///

The song changes. Then it changes again, and they're still going. 

It carries on for a while, feeling lovely, feeling great. It’s so so good but it’s not quite--- 

It’s okay. Brooke expected this. This is what it’s been like when she tried masturbating. Not even as good as this. 

The glorious peaceful quiet in Brooke's mind starts to wander, worrying if Vanessa's wrist is getting tired, if her fingers are cramping, if she's getting bored with Brooke and regretting ever buying her a drink. Her focus is totally slipping. It feels like her orgasm is retreating further away the more she tries to think herself towards it.

She thinks Vanessa can feel her frustration, and she tries to think of a way to say that it’s okay. This was really great and it doesn’t have to be any more than this, it’s already the best most right thing she’s ever felt. They can stop now. And she’d actually love to do it again some time. If Vanessa’s not tired of her uncooperative pussy already and ready to find an easier woman to finger. 

Vanessa beats her to it. She clears her throat in Brooke’s ear, hand stalling, turns Brooke to face her. She looks shiftily up at her, shifting foot to foot.

“Okay, baby don’t think I’m no perverted ass creeper or nothing but I got something that might…Big Silk gave us all this shit earlier, like a joke, but I was thinkin' it might...Did I tell you it’s my girl A’Keria’s birthday?...You know what, it don’t matter. Look. You wanna try something?”

Her eyes are big and earnest and Brooke is fascinated. 

“Sure,” Brook says, figuring nothing could be too surprising at this point. 

“I mean we can keep going if you want,” she hurries to add, like she’s worried she’s offending her. “Lord knows I wish I could stroke your lil pussy all night baby, you cute as hell. But you know my wrists ain’t made 'a steel, boo.”

Brook laughs. Snorts. How does she make Brooke's very real worries feel so silly and so completely fine by just blurting them right out like that?

“It’s okay. Let's...What is it?” She can't imagine what Vanessa is hunting through her pocket for. She's ready for anything. 

She’s still surprised when she hears a buzzing and Vanessa pulls out a bullet vibrator, wriggling around in her palm. 

Brooke starts laughing. 

“I swear I don’t bring this shit to the club on the regular degular schmegular or nothing. Silk got ‘em for us all for the gags. She a real fucked up ho.” 

Vanessa looks at her feet, blushing high on her pretty cheekbones. She's been so confident, lulling Brooke into security all night, but when her big eyes dart up at Brooke now, they're wide. She looks suddenly innocent, small and delicate.

“Usually I ain’t even like this, all up on somebody," she says softly. Clears some of the gravel in her throat.

"I mean don't get me wrong, baby, I fuck," she adds quickly, with more of the attitude Brooke recognizes. "Good pussy dont never get tired, baby," she grins proudly, then softens again as her eyes skate over Brooke's face.

"But I’m real romantic and shit, I swear. I treat my girls real nice," she grins mischievously. "You just got me feelin some type a way tonight, baby. I’m shook.”

Brooke smiles, completely charmed by the incomprehensible nonsense coming out of this tiny gorgeous woman. 

Also very interested in the vibrator. 

///

  
  


It does make a difference. 

With Vanessa pressing it against her clit, Brooke feels tingling start all over.

More intense, more directed, out of her control, building against her will, despite her rushing thoughts. 

“I wanna take you out for dinner, somewhere real nice, I swear,” Vanessa is panting in her ear, sounding as excited and frantic as Brooke feels. “You gotta give me your number. I’ma text before you even out the door baby, you so beautiful.”

Brooke is smiling, laughing, even while waves of gorgeous feeling build in her body. It feels so nice to laugh during sex. She’s never felt this comfortable with someone.

The waves are crescendoing, sweeping over her, so different than the sudden jerky way she used to come.

It’s beautiful. It feels so right, so good. God, she’s never felt this good.

She’s a woman all over and a beautiful woman is pressing on her clit ferociously with a vibrator and she’s gonna come, she's gonna come, she’s gonna….

Just as she’s panting, feeling the the waves start to tremble through her, Vanessa’s hand pulls away. 

“Whaa-aaahh,” Brooke blurts a soft confused desperate noise, chasing her hand with her hips. 

She was about to come for the first time with her new pussy and Vanessa just...stopped? 

Brooke can’t believe it.

Brooke looks over her shoulder and Vanessa is smirking. She has no idea what she’s done. 

“I was nearly...you didn’t…” Brooke is breathless. She doesn’t know what to do with herself. She was flushed already and feels her cheeks flame as Vanessa smirks at her. 

“Aww baby I can’t help it. You look so pretty all needy,” her voice is low and rough, eyes running hungrily over Brooke. She winks at Brooke and presses a soft kiss to her lips. “That was so good. Hadda keep you like this for me. Just for a minute. Know you can do it baby.”

She kisses her again. Tucks a strand of hair gently behind Brooke’s ear, petting her face as Brooke struggles to catch her breath. Her body feels tight with pleasure, wanting so badly to get to wherever she was going, so nearly there. She can hardly think straight. 

Vanessa takes her face in both hands, the vibrator still tucked in her palm, hard and cool against Brooke's cheek as she tugs Brooke down to kiss. 

Brooke keeps being surprised when she has to lean down to kiss Vanessa, because she acts like she’s a hundred feet tall. 

She’s still grinning when she pulls back. She strokes the vibrator along Brooke’s cheek and Brooke gasps, hand flying up to cover it, tugging it away, blushing hot, looking around to see if anyone saw. Vanessa cracks up laughing, delighting in playing with her, eyes big and warm and adoring. 

“So are we...you're just...are you gonna let me finish?” Brooke gapes at her standing there smirking like she could wait all night. 

She pretends to think about it, and Brooke decides then and there that she will be giving her her number because behavior like this absolutely cannot go unpunished. 

But oh God she needs to come. She was so close. It was finally gonna happen. She can barely think of anything else. It's amazing and terrible and _who is this woman_?

"Maybe," Vanessa can barely get the word out around her smirk. Now she's tapping the vibrator against her own chin thoughtfully, the absolute lunatic. 

"Maybe?" Brooke raises an eyebrow, trying to look unimpressed, but she doubts it's as effective as usual. Her cheeks are still burning and her whole body feels like it's still buzzing. She thinks about making a grab for the vibrator, wrestling it from her, and running to the bathroom to do it herself. But she knows it wouldn't be as good.

"Buy me a drink and I'll think about it," Vanessa winks.

She laughs, a bright loud cackle, and kisses Brooke's lips once, lightly. Then struts back to her loud friends, looking back over her shoulder at Brooke and winking again. Leaving Brooke open mouthed with shock, feeling exposed and raw and unbearably horny in the middle of the dancefloor. 

Vanessa looks over her shoulder again to make sure Brooke is following her. 

Brooke is.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays Writ! Excited for you to start the new year and the new decade with your new name :) Hope it's a great one! You are lovely and deserve great things always <3


End file.
